One Day Too Late
by What The FrUK
Summary: Arthur Kirkland has dreamed of falling in love his whole life, but his weak heart prevents it. It's only when he starts to give up hope that he runs into a mysterious man who just may offer the key to his salvation. If only he were willing to give it.FrUK
1. Sand Through an Hourglass

**One Day Too Late: Sand Through an Hourglass**

_**Kari Kurofai and Myriad Lapse's Co-Authoresses' Note**_

**KK: **Yo all! This is Kari Kurofai, the epic procrastinator, bringing you Myriad and I's joint fic of DOOOM!

**ML: **...And this is said person who doomed all of you with an idea of epic proportions that just HAD to be written! It's a lil' thing pretty much based upon the profile picture of this joint account. (Clicky the linky that says _What the FrUK_) :D

**KK: **OHOHOHO! Yes, it was Myriad's idea that I breathed some life into. :] And fenangled in some of the details that I feel will make this plot. That is, if we can agree on what Prussia pairing to go with. lawl

**ML: **Yup! And this fic is gonna have a helluva lotta pairings...gosh. (Shh, you'll all find out soon.) ;) Speaking of how many pairings, I'm sure our lovely readers are dying to know if this fic will hold any future lemony action. Any response to that? -gets ready for a BWUAHAHA moment-

**KK: **Actually, if ur up for it, I have lotsa lemons planned! This is Kari the perv you're talkin about here, lol. But as to how far such lemons will go . . . THAT'S A SECRET! BWHAHAHA! -is evil-

**ML: **Oh, I just knew it. :3 Well, as some of you have guessed by the summary, this fic is yaoi and is going to concerned about the topic of. . .VAMPIRES! Dun-dun-DUNNNNN~! :D

**KK: **And other supernatural phenomena that we can not tell u about because that would be a SPOILER! lol. And just a quick FYI, this is in no way at all related to Twilight. because there is nothing wrong with OUR vampire's left nipple. Nor is he gay and sparkly. Er, well, I take back the gay part. Gay. Vampire in fic is gay. otherwise there would be no fic, no? But at first I was very resistant to the idea because I fricken HATE Twilight, and Vampire Knight. And those were the only two stories I could think of for inspiration. But I had this lovely book in my hand called Millenium Snow. So Arthur's "condition" was spurned from that, more or less.

**ML: **Oh, a majority of us hate Twilight, dearie. I just wish moar people did. OMG, I also have a dislike for VK~ :O Ah, weeeeelll, I do believe our readers likely want us to "shut the hell up and give me the FrUKing yaoi!" :3 -nodnod-

**KK: **That is true. FrUKing yaoi = the bestest. So go for it!

**ML: **And now, here's what you clicked for~ Please enjoy this chapter! Give us reviews, and we'll work faster. And quite possibly even make some lemony dreams come true~ :D

* * *

Arthur Kirkland had never learned to dance with a partner, how to waltz or how to two-step across smooth floors and under dimmed lights. He had never held hands with anyone in a way that made his heart pound or his ears feel hot. The thought that he would never get his first kiss, let alone lose his virginity, was something that he tried not to dwell on too long. And no matter how much he wished for it, prayed for it, he knew that all his wishes and prayers had long run out. As had his short life.

He had been born with a weak heart. The doctor had told his parents that he would not live to see fifteen, a cruel fact that they had accepted. He'd lived his life in and out of the hospital, listening to the foreboding beeps of heart monitors and ambulances at all hours of the night. His days consisted of staying inside. He could not exercise and run around like the other boys his age, or attend movies or parties. It had been a little over a year since he'd last had the strength to go to school. So most of his days were spent watching movies and having ridiculous fantasies about finding the love he knew he would never meet.

The doctors would talk about it when they thought he couldn't hear, or when he'd feigned sleep. His heart wouldn't hold much longer. Just one more attack, that was all it would take, and he would never miraculously pull through again

He would not think about death or what may lay beyond it. Even if he made himself believe that there was an afterlife and that his parents were waiting for him, he couldn't deal with it. Maybe it was because somewhere, deep down, he was scared that there would be nothing, that he'd just cease to exist. Endless darkness, and consciousness never again. He thought about school instead, and his gaze turned to the sketchpad on his bedside table, remembering the person who had filled it's pages.

Feliciano had sat at his side countless times, drawing anything that Arthur had asked of him. Various imaginary loves he described, as fantasized and nonexistent as a Disney princess. Sometimes, that's exactly what he had the Italian draw. He watched him sketch out scenes of daily school life he hadn't experienced for so long. Of Kiku and Ludwig at lunch, smiling and laughing without him. It made him sad, but happy at the same time, to know that other people in the world would live on when he was gone, and maybe remember him too. He did not want to think that it was possible that no one would mourn his death.

"_I'll mourn you," _Feliciano had assured one afternoon as he closed the sketchbook. _"Me and Ludwig," _He'd smiled, _"And Kiku too. But you shouldn't think like that, Arthur. I believe that you'll see that hope is always just around the corner."_

Feliciano had said that with his usual, far-off expression, one that Arthur could not read. He had long ago learned that his friend was always strangely right about such things. So at this, he couldn't help but agree.

"I believe," Arthur whispered to himself, turning his gaze from the sketchbook to the window again. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of something, or rather, someone standing on the roof of the east building opposite his room, illuminated by the full moon light. It was a young man, his dark coat standing out against the backdrop of the night-drawn orb and his shoulder-length platinum-blond hair almost white in it's light.

Arthur scrambled to his knees in his bed, hands going to the windowsill as he stared out at the figure. He was balanced precariously on the edge of the West building, and Arthur sucked in a horrified breath as he leapt down from his perch. But he didn't drop like a rock as Arthur had suspected he would, like a _normal_ person did, but rather slipped into a glide-like fall that landed him just behind a bench across the courtyard. His hands shoved deep into his pockets and a slight tilt of his head told Arthur that he _knew_ someone was watching, and he turned his back, walking down the path and out of sight.

The blond sat back on his heels in shock. They say people see things before they die, but this was ridiculous. He'd seen faeries and all assortment of daemons and ghosts in his abnormally short lifetime, but never this. That man couldn't have been mortal or, hell, even human. A human would have died from something like that. Oh good god, he was beginning to feel as if he'd fallen into one of those C grade movies.

He slid back under the covers of his bed, deciding to forget the matter entirely. Nothing good could come of such a hallucination, or worse, such a creature. Better to just wipe his mind clean of the experience.

Arthur was becoming impatient with the nurses in his ward, there always seemed to be new ones oblivious to his needs. What he hated most was when people could only see him for his condition. Dubbing him weak and dying, which, at least the former, was far from what he was. "I get around town just fine, thank you very much," he snapped, folding his arms across his chest with an impatient snort.

The nurse in question today just looked at him with that, _Oh my gawd you're dying_ stare that he despised, "Your charts say that you're not allowed out off the grounds-"

"Well," Arthur growled, "it's either you let me out, or I sneak out." He held up two fingers, "Two choices. You decide."

"We'll look after him, ve," an auburn haired teen spoke up beside him, latching onto his arm like a leech, as if to prove that he wouldn't let Arthur out of his sight. A fresh sketchpad and pack of new pencils lay in a bag hanging from a strap around his wrist, and a tootsie-pop was dangerously close to sticking to Arthur's sleeve where it lay in the other hand. "Right, Ludwig?"

The blond standing behind Arthur nodded, taking the sucker from the other before it stuck to Arthur's shirt and popping it into his own mouth, "Right. Even if Feliciano zones out, I've got both eyes on him." He held out a hand and pressed it to Arthur's back as the other started to fall over under Feliciano's weight, something that would not have helped their cause one bit.

The nurse raised a disbelieving eyebrow, reaching for the phone, "Let me call your doctor first," she said skeptically, keeping one eye on them as if she thought they would make a break for it.

Ludwig rolled his eyes, handing the sucker back to Feliciano as the other started to reach to take it out of his mouth, "Stop getting the brown ones, they're gross," he frowned, sticking it in the Italian's open mouth with a smirk.

"But the chocolate ones are the best!" Feliciano exclaimed, "And you messed up my licking, Ludwig. Now I'll have to try and count how many it takes to get to the center on the _next_ sucker..."

"One of these days he's going to get wet and melt into a giant pile of sugar," Arthur scoffed, "and then we won't even be surprised, with how much of the stuff he eats."

"Sugar and noodles," Ludwig muttered. "I put in ten extra hours last week because he _insisted_ we had to go to this fancy Italian place on Friday night. Forty dollars for one plate." He scowled. Arthur laughed.

The nurse looked over at them again, phone still to her ear, "The doctor says you can go," she relented, waving a hand at them to leave.

Arthur threw his hands up into the air and whooped in victory, leading the way down the hall and to the elevator, the other two trailing behind and discussing whether blue or brown tootsie-pops were the best ones. The blond grinned as they stepped out onto the street, held back from dashing headlong down the sidewalk by Ludwig catching his shoulder. "Hold up there, we promised not to let you get too rowdy."

In the window above, the nurse still held the phone to her ear, "How could you just let him out like that?! You know how frequent his attacks have become!" she hissed into the receiver.

"_Let him be. If that is what he wishes to do with the last bit of time he has left, then so be it,"_ the doctor said evenly in reply.

* * *

Feliciano hung back from the other two as they walked down the lightly peopled streets of their city, taking pictures on his phone of various scenes he would want to draw later. Every once in awhile he would have them stop so that he could make a quick sketch of a particular object or person. It was as they were waiting for him to finish doodling a vase in one of the wide store windows that Arthur's attention was captured by something else. Or more specifically, someone.

He had felt something not far behind him while he was watching the Italian, and he had shivered unconsciously. It wasn't unusual for him to sense or see strange things, and living in a hospital for most of his life, he had become used to it. Ghosts and dark fairies and daemons that enjoyed the smell of death. He tried to ignore them as much as possible. But this was different. When he turned around to face the perpetrator of his sudden unease, he was entirely shocked to see that on the outside, the young man in question looked human.

The other was easily spotted amongst the crowd on the other side of the street, getting ready to cross with the gaggle of girls that seemed to have their eyes glued on him in a way that made Arthur a little creeped out. It was the kind of rabid stare that said _I want to jump you bones _as clear as day. But the person it was directed at was either completely oblivious, or just wasn't interested. Though he did give the girls a rather dazzling smile and waved as he crossed the street ahead of them. His hair was a light blond in contrast to Arthur's own, his eyes a perfect sky-blue, and a light stubble dotted his chin. His feet touched the sidewalk and his gaze suddenly met Arthur's as if he could feel the other's eyes on him. A slight frown crossed his features and he narrowed his eyes at the other, a flash of wariness crossing his face.

Arthur took half a step back, unsure of what exactly this person was. His eyes were too light for him to be a demon, and he was too large to be a fairy. And the way that the girls flocked around him told Arthur that he was too visible to be a ghost. He'd met a siren once on a trip to Greece with his parents when he was nine, but sirens were all female. Unless this was some strange sort of transvestite. He blinked and tried to just ignore the stranger, not wanting to get involved should he be something dangerous, at least, until his attention was caught by something else.

A little girl exited the shop that Feliciano was looking into, still sketching the vase. She picked up the edges of her dark blue, almost black dress as she walked daintily down the steps before breaking out into a run towards the young man Arthur had been staring at. Her back was to Arthur, and her long dark-brown hair was tied up into two pigtails held by twin red ribbons. And on her back . . .

Arthur couldn't contain the startled breath when he saw her, in awe and at the same time, a little afraid. On her back were two, small, bat-like wings curled tight against her shoulder blades. The talons at the top were flicked outwards in an almost menacing way, and he suspected that if they were unfurled, she'd have about a four-foot wingspan. The blond reached over and grabbed the hem of Feliciano's shirt, fingers clenching into the fabric with nervousness as she ran up to the stranger and he laughed, lifting her up into his arms. "Feliciano . . . Can you see that?" He prayed it was just a costume prop.

Feliciano looked up, amber-brown eyes confused as he followed Arthur's horrified gaze, "See what?"  
"That little girl's wings," Arthur breathed. Now, Ludwig too turned to take a look.

"No," the German snorted, "There's nothing there."

"No wings, Arthur," Feliciano said softly, understandingly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "What do they look like?"

"Like devil's wings," Arthur whispered, taking another step back. Oh god, he'd read about things like this. Angels of death with wings like a bat's. He didn't want to die yet, god damn it. He hadn't even had his first kiss yet!

The stranger's eyes fell upon him again over the top of the little girl's head, icy stare saying that he knew that Arthur was watching them. He said something to the crowd of girls around him swiftly before tightening his grip on the child in his arms and taking a pace towards Arthur. Arthur took a pace back. This dance of sorts was repeated and continued for a moment longer until Ludwig grabbed Arthur by the arm, steering him into a nearby restaurant for some lunch.

For a brief second, Arthur thought that being in a crowded restaurant with his friends would make the stranger back off. But it was a fleeting thought, as the bell on the door rang almost right behind them as they entered. Arthur muttered something to Feliciano about getting a table while he ran to the washroom before darting away. Surely, not even a demon would be weird enough to follow him into the bathroom, where everyone inside could hear their conversation and the walls would echo with screams if the stranger was deadly.

The blond pushed past some people and made his way to the back, shoving the bathroom door open and falling onto the tiled floor inside, his heart beating wildly. He had to calm down_ right now_ or he'd have another attack. Scrambling to his feet again, he dragged himself over to the mirror, placing his palms on the counter and lowering his head towards the sink, breathing unevenly. He flinched as the door creaked open, glancing up into the mirror to see if it was the odd young man coming in to finish him off, or something. But to his surprise, the door swung shut again without a single person entering the room. He sighed in relief, blaming it on a sudden draft before reaching to turn on the sink.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and slamming him up against the counter with crushing force. He couldn't even scream as blue eyes met emerald in a furious gaze, locking him in place with a look alone.

"Shouldn't have used the mirror to check who was coming in, ami." The young man smirked, triumph on his features. "Now, do you mind telling me why exactly you were staring at me and mon Ilea?"

"I-I wasn't staring," Arthur said hastily. A little too hastily, to be exact. He gasped as the rough hands shoved him up against the counter so that his feet were no longer touching the ground.

"Liar! I can see it in your eyes! You _saw_ something!"

Arthur began to panic, terrified that this man was really going to kill him, "Her wings! That's all I saw, I swear!"

The stranger drew back a bit in surprise, "You can see her wings?"

"Y-yes," Arthur gasped as he was shoved up higher against the counter, falling over backwards across it so that his head almost hit the mirror, their legs tangling together.

The stranger leaned over him, gritting his teeth, "You tell _no one_ about what you saw, understand?" He pressed the other back so that his head cracked against the mirror and he elicited a small cry of pain, "Understand?!"

Arthur paled, eyes widening as he caught sight of the abnormally sharp teeth that glinted in the bright bathroom light, bared in anger and just a tinge of fear. "You're teeth," he gasped, realization washing over him. Sharp teeth, no reflection, the bat-like wings on the little girl. It all fit. Though not perfectly. "What are you?"

The taller teen man drew back a bit, a small smirk playing in the corners of his mouth, "Did you put two and two together, ami?"He grabbed Arthur's head with one hand, turning it to the side to bare his neck upwards, "Then I'm afraid you're a liability."

The other's breath caught in his throat, trying to scream but unable to do so, the sound held back by those piercing blue eyes trained on his. The stranger opened his mouth, licking sharp canines with a dark smile. "Too bad, ami. I've always wondered what the cops would say if they found a body drained of blood. They'd probably blame it on some satanic ritual, even thought the twin bite marks of a vampire would be as clear as day." He laughed, "I guess I'll find out."

Finally, Arthur screamed, a terrified wail that was quickly smothered by the other's hand, making the noise vanish in case others should hear. "Ami! Ami! Calm down!" The stranger's eyes widened, a laugh bubbling up in his throat. "I was totally joking!"

Arthur slumped in his grip, breathing hard and closing his eyes as the hand was removed from his mouth. "That is a _really_ mean joke," he muttered. "I see things like vampires all the time! Of course I'd believe you, you git!"

"That's not what I was joking about," the stranger smirked, stepping back to run a hand through his light hair. He waved a carefree hand at the mirror behind Arthur.

The dark-browed blond turned and stared at his own reflection, alone in the room, "Then you really are . . ."

"A vampire? Oui," the stranger laughed. "Though it might not be what you're used to." He held up hand and began to tick off his fingers, "I can walk around fine in daylight, I'm not undead; I was born this way, I do not drink blood, and I definitely don't sparkle."

Arthur couldn't help but smile, "Aw, really? I was totally pining for that last one." His breathing was still shallow and uneven, but he tried to ignore it. "You don't drink blood?"

"Ami, can you think of anything more disgusting than drinking lukewarm liquid that tastes like a penny? Ew." He smiled, but the expression instantly fell when he saw how Arthur was breathing, the shorter blond reaching up a hand to clench into the folds of his shirt above his chest. "Ami?"

Arthur shook his head, a pleading chant begging in the back of his mind. _No. no, no, no, no! Not again! I might not make it through another attack! Please! _His breath began to come in short, panicked spurts, and he squeezed his eyes shut as a sudden searing pain laced through his chest. This was a hundred times scarier than any vampire, and a whimper of fear escaped him, mixed in with a silent gasp at the second shock of pain in his heart. He fell forward off of his perch on the counter, his world darkening even as strong arms caught him, someone screaming something over and over that sounded vaguely like _help_. In the distance, he heard the door burst open, and more voices surrounding him, before he blacked out, and shut out the ripping pain in his chest.

^-^ ^-^ ^-^

A gentle hand was brushing back his hair from his eyes when Arthur regained consciousness, and he kept his eyes closed. The fingers were cool, like an icepack on the fever he knew was well under way. He shifted beneath them, a mumbled question forming on his lips but not escaping.

The person sitting on the edge of his bed leaned over him, warm breath fluttering out over his ear, "You should have told me you had a heart condition, ami."

"It wouldn't have made a difference," Arthur whispered, eyes remaining closed.

"I would not have treated you so roughly," the stranger muttered, regret in his voice. "If I had known I-"

"Arthur."

The other sat up a bit more, pulling his hand back from Arthur's hair as the smaller teen opened his eyes, "Hmm?"

"My name," Arthur said quietly. He sighed, shifting onto his side so that he could look at the vampire properly. The taller blond was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, one hand fisted into the sheets and the other resting on Arthur's shoulder, his blue eyes on the window where the girl he'd seen before was carefully perched in the full moon light. "I was pronounced due to die the day I was born," he smiled sadly, "How horrible that must have been for my parents to hear, their only child doomed to die. So they read me stories of happier times, and I would pretend they were my own. I would dream about being a dashing prince that rescued a helpless princess from the clutches of evil. And you know," he closed his eyes again, "That's all I ever really wanted. Not money, or petty things, or even life. I wanted just the tiniest piece of what all those fairytale characters ended up with. Just a taste of what it would feel like to love, and be loved in return. And in truth, I didn't want to be the prince. Because I was the helpless one, trapped by the evil of my weak heart. I wanted to be saved." He shook his head, "But it's too late for that now. And my parents are already gone, so I don't even have the stories left anymore."

The vampire glanced back at him, eyebrows furrowed together, "Don't say that so lightly, ami. You never know what will happen tomorrow, or the day after that." He pushed the hair out of Arthur's eyes again, "That's what I really hate about humans. Too weak willed, too ready to die." He sighed, "I owe you an apology, Arthur."

"What for?"

"For scaring you so badly, this is my fault," he whispered, regret clear in his gaze.

Arthur flashed him a small, but genuine smile, catching the hand in his bangs and giving it a light squeeze, "No matter what you do, I'm going to die. It's only a matter of how long it will be until then. I like to believe in fate. So if I am meant to die, then so be it. Whatever you or anyone else does can change that." He frowned, "The time between my attacks is getting shorter and shorter though. I doubt I have much time left at all."

The other sighed, turning away again, "There's a nurse coming in a few minutes, I should really go." He scooped the little girl up into his arms, watching as Arthur's eyes fell on her wings again.

"Wait," Arthur tried to sit up to stop him, but winced and lay back down again, "What . . . What's your name?"

"Francis," the vampire smiled.

"Will you be coming back to visit me?" Arthur asked, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice. With Feliciano, Kiku, and Ludwig at school all the time, he only saw his friends on weekends. It was quite lonely. And even the company of a vampire would be welcoming.

"If you would like," Francis nodded, before pulling open the window and leaping down to the ground far below.

Arthur started as a nurse entered the room not a second later, glancing at the open window in surprise. "Did you open this?" she asked, going to shut it and peering down at the ground below as if she thought someone six stories down could have possibly done it.

"No," Arthur said honestly, smiling innocently. He blinked as he looked out at the full moon outside, suddenly understanding what he'd seen the night before. The person on the opposite roof, that had to have been Francis, there was no other explanation. He laughed softly, wondering exactly how many times they'd passed each other before they'd finally been close enough to collide.

^-^ ^-^ ^-^

Arthur was in the middle of making a snowman when he saw the vampire next, pushing a giant snowball in front of him. The other had appeared out of nowhere, suddenly emerging from behind a tree and making Arthur nearly jump out of his skin. Francis looked alarmed at how badly he'd startled him before the shorter blond assured him that he was feeling just fine today. It had been five days since his attack at the restaurant, and he was feeling just fine. Well, as fine as someone who had lived through multiple mini heat attacks could feel.

"You really came back," he grinned, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against his massive snowball.

"You asked me to," Francis said simply. He waved a hand at the snowball, raising an eyebrow, "What are you doing?"

"Making a snowman," Arthur said bluntly. "Didn't they have those back in whatever eighteen-hundred year you were born in?"

Francis rolled his eyes skyward, "Another incorrect myth about vampires. I expect I am roughly the same age as you, ami. In the literal sense. I'm seventeen."

"You don't look it," Arthur said in disbelief.

"Ah," Francis twirled around, "Is that because of my ruggedly mature and handsome looks?"

"I was speaking of your _immaturity_," Arthur mocked, smiling as Francis pretended to look aghast. "And you never answered my question, have you never seen a snowman before or what?"  
"Of course I have _seen_ a snowman," Francis huffed, hands on his hips. "I have just never _made_ a snowman."

"What, seriously?" Arthur stared as the other could only scowl at the question, "Get over here and finish mine then, I'm pooped." To his utter surprise, Francis looked delighted at the prospect, taking up the snowball rolling and allowing Arthur to go sit down on a nearby bench. It was amusing to the dark-browed teen to watch the vampire's attempts at snowman making. He constantly had to shout out instructions, like when to start on the next snowball and the fact that he thought was obvious about avoiding various shrubs and trees while making them.

So he sat back on the bench instead, watching the other and trying not to be too disturbed by the fact of how easily he got tired these days. Maybe if he didn't think on it, it would simply go away. A fruitless wish. He blinked as small hands suddenly rested on his knee, and he stared down into the dark-brown eyes of the little girl he'd seen with Francis before. He smiled and lifted her up to sit on the bench beside him, "You're Francis' friend, right? What's your name?"  
"Ilea," she said quietly, fiddling with the scarlet ribbons in her hair as she looked up at him. "Are you . . . Are you the young master's partner?"

"His what?"

She looked away, "I suppose not then, if you must ask." Ilea tilted her head to the side, studying him closely, "The young master is seventeen now. He must choose a life-partner before his eighteenth birthday, or he will die." She noted the shocked look in Arthur's eyes before continuing, "He does not need to drink blood right now, should he choose not to. But once he turns eighteen, it will become a necessity. A life-partner should be chosen before then, someone that will let master drink their blood, because from then on, master will drink no one else's blood but his partner's. And his partner will live just as long as he does to keep the young master alive, almost a thousand years." She frowned in worry, "I don't think the young master will ever take a partner. He'd rather die. I don't want the young master to die."

Arthur placed a hand on her head, "I'm sure he'll choose someone before the time is up." He cast a glance at the vampire, carefully examining different fallen branches to decide which would make better arms for the snowman, "I think . . . That he loves life more than he cares to admit." A small laugh escaped him as Francis frantically waved at him to come over and help.

"Ami, I can't decide which ones are better," Francis pouted, "They all look the same to me!"

"Why do you think I'm an expert snowman builder? It's just a hobby," Arthur teased, taking a few of the branches from him to compare them. He winced as a thin piece of bark slid along his palm, leaving a small cut and a piece of wood embedded in it. The blond muttered a curse under his breath, pulling out the splinter and tossing it into the snow with a huff, "Fuck, now my hand's bleeding," he hissed, taking off his scarf to wrap it around his palm. His eyes widened as he realized what he said, casting a fervent look at Francis.

The vampire was crouched down in the snow, his hands covering his nose and mouth as he tried to tear his eyes away from Arthur's hand. "Francis?" Arthur whispered, unsure of what to do.

"Get back!" Francis yelled, stumbling and falling over backwards.

Arthur followed and leaned over him, tearing the hand away from the other's mouth, "You really do like blood don't you," he gasped, seeing the wild look in the other's eyes and the way that the almost rabid saliva filled his mouth behind his bared fangs. "Then take my blood you idiot! You'll die without it won't you? Make me your life partner!"

An feral growl ripped itself from Francis' throat, "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He practically screamed, backing away from Arthur. "Don't you understand the horror of living for that long? Everyone around you will die!" He shoved the other away, covering his nose and mouth again.

The smaller teen gasped as he hit the snow, hard, his breath escaping him in a whoosh. He tried to push himself to his feet, to little avail, slipping on the slushy ground. "Francis! There are worse things than living too _long_! You could die before you've had the chance to see anything of the world! I don't want you to give up your life like that when you have a fucking _chance_ to keep living! Don't you understand? I don't have that kind of chance! And I won't have you wasting yours!" He screamed the words, he begged and pleaded as much as he knew how, until tears formed in his eyes. Even if they hardly knew each other, he didn't want Francis to die, without even trying to live. Not when he himself had tried so hard and _failed_ to do the same.

Francis' eyes widened as Arthur suddenly swayed dangerously, a soundless gasp forming on his lips, but dying there as he fell facedown into the snow. And for the second time in less than a week, Francis found himself screaming for help, slipping and sliding across the snow to the other, though he knew that at the moment, there was nothing he could do.

Time froze. Figuratively and literally. There were doctors and nurses all around Arthur, watching different machines and monitors, one of which he realized was strapped to his wrist, the spiked lines measuring his heartbeat almost flattened out. A doctor right above him was holding the electrical paddles, prepared to try and start his failing heart again, but he knew that this time, it wouldn't work. Nothing moved, and he could barely feel his own breath inside the oxygen mask over his face. He pulled it off and dropped it at his side, eyes searching for the source of this suspended space in time.

Francis was leaning against the window, blue eyes filled with regret and something else. Arthur could swear it was anguish. "Mon ami, I'm sorry," he whispered.

Arthur tried his best to smile, tears welling in his eyes, "It's not your fault. I'm the one who should apologize." Even with time standing at a halt, his heart still beat wildly, slowly fading, and his breathing was shallow, chest heaving with every forced breath. "The way you said what you did back there, I understand that fear. And believe me, I feel the same. I don't want to die, I'm scared that there will be nothing left after I do, and that it will be just me, all alone in the dark." He choked back a sob at the thought, "So I'm sorry, for leaving you behind when the reason you want to die is so that you never have to be left behind at all. I'm . . . So sorry, ami . . ."

The vampire rose from his perch on the window, crossing the room to stand at the side of the stretcher, "Arthur, wait . . ." There was no answer, and Arthur smiled faintly, his eyes flickering closed and his breathing all but disappearing. "Ami! Answer me!" Panic flared into Francis' voice, and he leaned over the bed, shaking the other gently, "Arthur! Wake up!" He stumbled back, pulling back the right sleeve of his shirt and sinking his teeth into his bare arm, spilling crimson blood onto the floor as he filled his mouth with his own life.

Francis climbed up onto the stretcher, pulling Arthur up to him and brushing his hair back from his eyes, "I can't . . . I can't give you a forever, I would not grant that to anyone. But at least . . . At least a little longer, please . . ." He leaned down, closing the gap between them and kissing the other, hard. The vampire pried the smaller man's lips apart, transferring the blood in his mouth into the other's, holding him close as such until he felt the motionless heart against his chest pound with new strength.

Arthur coughed and choked, noise suddenly erupting around him. The stretcher was moving again, rushing him towards the E.R, the machines and doctors creating a frenzied ruckus beside him.

"Heart rate has suddenly spiked up!"

"What the- there's blood all over the stretcher! Where did that come from?"

"Heart rate still climbing! We're out of the danger zone!"

His emerald eyes searched for Francis, but he was nowhere to be found, vanished with the moving time.

^-^ ^-^ ^-^

A black furred fox was sitting, unseen on the windowsill outside of a certain six-floor room in the hospital. Dark-brown eyes watched carefully as one person slept soundly in the bed, wrapped tight in the blankets, and for once, looking almost relaxed in his sleep. Another sat on the edge of the bed, one hand in the first's hair, brushing it from his eyes as he murmured something that even the fox's strong ears could not pick up through the glass. The first person had not seen the second person arrive, drugged to sleep. And the fox was certain that he would not wake in time to see him leave. But the fox would, because he was always watching, observing, scenting, listening.

Right now, his nose told him that the second person was not human. There was a reek of blood about him that unnerved the fox, and the way he walked suggested a grace that only came with impending long life. The fox was curious, but he would save his questions for later. He would know in due time, just as he always did. So instead of sticking around to continue watching them, he made his way slowly along the ledge of beneath all the windows on the building. His paws left the safety of his perch as he came to the end of it, leaping down onto the roof of building beside the one he was on, a children's ward only five stories tall.

A figure was crouched there, and it beckoned the fox over with a wave of it's hand. The fox approached him slowly, aware of the waning moon overhead lighting his path. The figure smiled down at him, scratching him behind the ears and closing startling blue eyes behind thick glasses, apparently pleased.

"Is he what I think he is?" the figure asked.

The fox flicked his tail once, giving his answer in the code he'd learned to communicate with when it came to the figure.

"Good. Finally," the figure patted the dark-furred creature's head approvingly, "Let's just hope the legend's correct then, hmm?"

**End AN from Kari: **forgot to mention it earlier, but in case you don't get it, Ilea is Seychelles. :] Myriad insisted that she had a more normal sounding name. So I came up with Ile (the French word for island) with a random ass A on the end. Lol.


	2. Rewound

**One Day Too Late: Rewound**

**Myriad didn't want to add AN's today, but I did so :p **

**And besides, I have to answer the reviews, no?**

**_Moonstreakneko-_ ur reviews bore me. =_= make them longer! (I'm only harassing u cause I luv yah)**

**_Foxyaoi123-_ Yay! We should start a club of twilight haters. Oh wait, I'm already in one. :]**

**_Lady-ribbon-_ I love u so, u kno that right? Never read the Anne Rice stuff since it is illegal to write ff on. So it makes me angry. But I might take a look-see eventually. :3 Stop lookin too much into the scene at the end! U'll spoil it! *puts hand over mouth* and when is there NOT Alfred/Kiku in my stories? = 3= IDK about a wedding. I shall take ur suggestion into account. (can I put Arthur in a dress? I want him in a dress. I have a fanart of that u kno).**

_**Lucky-Angel135-**_** Lol, I love u too. :3 FrUk just needs more love all around, nu?**

_**Chipmunk-Chihuahua Hybrid-**_ **Aww, thankies! It was confusin? Francis was apologizing because he feels he was to blame since he riled Arthur up so.**

_**Chris-Remmey-**_** thankies thankies! Glad u like!**

_**Soul Fang-**_** lol, thankies very much! Glad that FrUk is ur OTP, it needs the lurve.**

_**ShadowlovesRouge-**_** Well we are glad u are not disgusted then. :3 and Sexy Francis always comes to the rescue! Shhhh . . . Foxiness and the spy will be revealed soon, no worries. :] and the Prussia pair has been decided cause Myriad took too long to get this chapter out, so I gained control over it. *thumbs up***

**And a special thankies to VelvetChinaDoll who gave us this piece of complete awesome! Watch it!**

.com/watch?v=yUiUN57NE-w&fmt8

**And now u may continue on with the story. :D :D**

Weeks had passed since Francis disappeared and Arthur had had his last attack. It soon came to the clinic's attention that his heart was as vivid and healthy as ever; almost as if there had never been a problem with him in the first place, let alone having been born with the disease. Traces of damaged muscle tissue in his heart were still evident, but it was only a like scar now. The scar could, of course, rupture under intense stress, but it was a highly farfetched possibility that Arthur would ever be injured that seriously any time soon. Then again, it's also farfetched for there to be any logical explanation for how he was miraculously healed. Hearing the news, Feliciano whooped Italian exclamations of joy for his friend as he hugged him fervently and declared a celebration of Ludwig treating them to ice cream ("My treat? Don't decide such things on your own!"), despite the winter. While Feliciano enjoyed his gelato and Ludwig sipped his hot chocolate, Arthur settled for a single scoop chocolate-chip mint cone and silently thanked the vampire who had saved his life, who he vowed to thank personally someday. He no longer had to lie in a hospital bed wasting all his days away, and instead enjoyed staying with Feliciano's family as he had over a year ago as though he had never been away. And then, after much debating with his doctor, he found himself walking onto the campus of his old high school--the one he'd missed going to for the past year.

The nostalgia rushed at him like the winds of winter in February. A decent comparison, since that was his experience the minute he got out of Ludwig's car parked in front of the school. Arthur regretted forgetting to put on his earmuffs before he, Feliciano, and Feliciano's twin brother Lovino got a ride with Ludwig. He had only a thick, hooded black cape that had belonged to his father, a last token and one of few pleasant memoirs of his dead parents, to keep him warm. But even despite the freezing cold and chilly wind, the blonde teen looked straight ahead at the high school he thought he'd never see again with a mindset that held his thankfulness for another chance at life. It looked just like the picture Feliciano had drawn for him months ago. The Brit inhaled the cold air, savoring the fact that he was finally returning, that he was _finally_ going to see all his friends he'd missed so much over the past year. Feliciano and Ludwig had visited him just about every other day, but never did he hear from his other companion, Kiku, and the memory of waiting for him to visit in vain left him feeling slightly hollow, and just a little bit worried. Leaving a friend without so much as a goodbye was very unlike the well mannered Japanese teenager, and it unnerved him a bit to think that maybe Kiku just hadn't cared enough to come. The blond made a face at the idea, but he shook it off to focus his attention on how he would go through this day.

"Ve, Arthur! Why are you just standing there?"

Arthur was snapped from his reverie to see Feliciano and company ready to enter the building. Rushing to get out of the cold, Arthur sped his way across the campus lot and into the building. Ludwig and Lovino departed from Arthur in the main hallway, but Feliciano stood by him with a ready grin.

"Ludwig gave me your schedule~ Here!" You and I have the same first period! Isn't that great~?" The Italian held up a crinkled blue piece of paper that Arthur seized from his hand. "Oh, and Kiku is in the class, too."

Arthur raised his eyebrows, the same unease trickling through him as it had a few moments before. He didn't really hear much about Kiku from Feliciano or Ludwig, except for during his first few weeks in the hospital. The subject of the other after that just seemed to drift off. The Brit contemplated questioning Feliciano about this, but decided against it for whatever reason.

Feliciano continued to happily think out loud about how happy he was at the moment while he and his British peer moseyed along to their class. As they walked, Arthur wondered exactly how much had changed. He was a junior now--eleventh grade. There had to be new freshmen this school year, and new teachers. Arthur wanted badly to see all his old friends. Then, a bit worriedly, he wondered if maybe he'd done something before he'd been locked away in his cell of a hospital that had terribly offended Kiku somehow. But rather than assuming such, he thought positively of how much he hoped to surprise him by being out of the hospital and miraculously healed.

Then a thought hit him; if Francis had been around several weeks ago, was it all too likely that he didn't live in town? He'd also said that he was only seventeen, which meant that by all logicalities he was in high school. But it was also likely that he went to a different school--Hetalia Senior High School wasn't the only high school in the area . . .

With some sort of hopeful giddiness in his throat, Arthur entered the classroom after Feliciano. His vision flew right towards the faces of rest of the students. His eyes frantically searched for a familiar face, namely Francis', but not one was to be found. Feeling the excitement within him dwindle, he released a held-in breath with a disappointed sigh that was drowned out by the sound of the class bell.

"Arthur! Sit next to me over here." Feliciano sat and pointed to an empty seat near his own. A fairly dejected Arthur ignored the suggestion and sat in a seat near the back of the room instead, leaving the Italian to himself, though he felt like a right ass for doing so as Feliciano gave him one of those sad-puppy sort of looks that made Ludwig blush.

Feliciano noticed his friend's decision and mood, and titled his head perplexedly, though he felt a little left out. _'Ve . . . I wonder what could be wrong with il mio buon amico_ _. . . ?'_ he thought with slight worry. Then, looking around, he noticed that Kiku was not present. Feeling himself consumed with concern for some reason, the Italian could do nothing but panic as he looked from the door where Kiku was supposed to come in to Arthur's grim figure. Suddenly, as if to calm one anxiety, the door burst open and in flew a blur of black hair and pale skin.

Kiku stood himself up straight and then, bowing apologetically, nearly shouted, "I-I am sorry about being late!" The class was silent and then erupted with giggles. The Japanese boy flushed, putting a late note on the teacher's desk and finding a desk to sit at. He saw Feliciano, who waved at him half-heartedly, and was going to sit down in the seat next to him when he looked across the room to see-

Kiku stopped. _'Arthur-san?'_ He looked back over to Feliciano, exchanging glances between Arthur and him until the Italian glanced over at Arthur and gave Kiku a nod. With some sort of relief, Kiku excitedly met Arthur in front of his desk.

The Brit looked up. "H-hey! Kiku! Where've you been? I haven't heard from you," he asked, trying to hide his unrelated disappointment.

Kiku trained his eyes to the floor, "I've been really busy, Arthur-san. I'm s-so sorry," he stammered with a truly regretful look. "But I knew you'd be all right so . . ." he paused as the teacher sent a dangerous glare in their direction before hurrying off to an empty seat a few rows away, mouthing that they'd talk later over his shoulder.

English class had always been a pain to Arthur, the reason revolving around how "America's literature style just doesn't make any sense!" which was the often used as an excuse when his essays were returned to him with those horrid red marks all over them. His teacher the last time he'd been here quite some time ago had long grown tired of him playing the "stupid foreigner," especially with people like Kiku in the class. But this was a new teacher and a new start. He planned to test out how long that explanation would get him this time.

For the next three periods, Arthur managed to have at least one of his friends in each of his classes, though he zoned out too much in each after a half-hearted search for the platinum blond hair and brilliant blue eyes he knew he wouldn't find. Lunch, or "dinner" which Arthur made a great inference with in his head, didn't seem to be any different than it had been a year ago. The line was long if you weren't fast enough and the students were noisy and insistent as always. It was nice distraction, he supposed, but he couldn't seem to shake the fact that he was likely never to see Francis again. With more of the concern about the latter floating about his head, he wondered if Francis would ever find--or had already found--a partner before his eighteenth birthday.

_"He must choose a life-partner before his eighteenth birthday, or he will die."_

The words of that girl, Ilea, echoed in his mind. If Francis could just manage to find a partner, he would be fine. But only if he was willing to take one. Arthur didn't really care if it was even him, like he had suggested. As long as the French vampire just found _someone. _But a tightening in his chest came into being when the thought came to mind.

Gripping the place over the tense feeling with his hand, Arthur made his way over to where Feliciano was waving his hand hysterically in the air to catch his attention, setting his tray down with a muffled sigh. He listened halfheartedly as Lovino pestered the other two about something or another that Arthur was not all that interested in until he was in mid gulp of the cafeteria milk (which he had forgotten he hated, but was grateful enough just to be here that he choked it down anyways), and Lovino cut in with a snide comment about a blowjob.

Arthur coughed, nearly gagging his milk up all over his tray, which wouldn't have been too much of a loss, but all the same, wasted food was wasted food. He shot a glare at Lovino, who immediately quieted mid sentence and turned emerald eyes to Ludwig, who was staring at the ceiling, and Feliciano who was wolfing down his food in a way that was unusually fast, even for him. "Is there something he should know?" he asked, eyes narrowed dangerously.

Ludwig shifted uncomfortably, and Feliciano merely continued to inhale his food, so Arthur nodded to Lovino as a cue that he could speak without fear of death once more. Lovino pulled at the collar of his shirt nervously, "Er, well . . . I guess I was just being nosey but . . ." He paled as Arthur rolled his eyes and gave him a look that said _get on with it_, "I saw them doing weird things, okay?!"

Arthur pushed his food out of the way and rested his elbows on the table, his chin on his palms, "And when did this happen?" he asked, directing his gaze at Feliciano as the younger twin ran out of food to use as an excuse.

Feliciano's eyes welled up with apologetic tears, "_M-Mi dispiace_!" he wailed. "We held off from starting anything because we were worried about you, even though Ludwig told me he loved me last Valentines and-"

The German clamped a hand over Feliciano's mouth, his face reddening, "You don't need to spill everything to him, Feliciano," he scolded softly. He glanced at Arthur, "I mean . . . It's okay with you, isn't it?"

The Englishman smiled, "Why wouldn't it be? I mean, the way you two are with each other, I'd be worried if it ended up _not_ being that way, you know?" His small smile fell, and he turned back to poking at his food with an inward sigh.

The other three looked at their gloomy-faced friend with some sort of concern etched in their expressions Well, Feliciano looked fairly worried, Ludwig looked for the most part oblivious, too relieved for his own situation to notice, and Lovino was basically just indifferent.

"Ve . . . Arthur? Is something wrong? You were all depressed during first period, and you're being really quiet now." Feliciano nudged his shoulder to encourage a response, but Arthur just turned away.

". . . Really." he replied monotonously, as though he had not noticed he was being so, hoping to discourage further questioning.

Ludwig grimaced, finally taking note of his companion's sour mood. "Ja. You were silent during second period as well. It's not like you to be so depressed, well, considering your condition before, it wasn't unusual, but you don't really have much of a reason now. Why--"

"Yeah, why so serious, damn it?!" Lovino cut in with his blunt form of speech, slamming his hands on the table and getting in Arthur's face. "You're being stupid, brooding over nothing! Be fucking happy you're not dead like you shoul--_ow! _Augh! Hey, don't let this guy hit me, bro! Do something, dammit!" Lovino now hid behind his still-concerned brother from an annoyed-looking Ludwig who had just hit him upside the head.

"Quit being such an insensitive _trottel _and give him some space." Ludwig turned to Arthur. "But he's right, _camerade_. What could possibly make you down after what you went through and survived?"

Arthur answered with a reserved scowl of silence as he fed his growing visual interest with today's lunch special, an oxymoron in its own right. _Lunch special_, he thought to himself, _ha_.

Ludwig seemed to go into thought, and was about to speak when Feliciano interjected for him.

"Arthur, is it about that one guy? The one who helped at the restaurant when you had the attack? I saw him with you a couple times after that and right before you had the attack when you almost . . . You know," he drew off, fidgeting a bit and feeling slightly out of bounds for bringing it up.

Arthur looked up at his Italian friend in surprise. He had had no idea Feliciano somehow managed to even notice Francis the whole time that turn of events took place. Then again, he himself hadn't really focused on what anyone was doing around him, other than Francis alone.

Seeing that the reaction registered positive, Feliciano smiled encouragingly. "Ve, you don't have to worry! I'm sure you'll see him again someday! He seemed like a nice guy, did you _like _him?" the auburn haired teen added extra emphasis on the word "like" much as an elementary school student would, and Ludwig rolled his eyes beside him.

Now at that, Arthur twitched. He tried opening his mouth to speak, but words came out in little chokes that sounded oddly like a croaking frog. Sure, he'd suggested becoming Francis' partner, but it wasn't like he'd fallen in _love_ with the guy! It was a split second of desperation, was all. Er, not that he was too desperate for his _own_ well-being rather than making sure Francis didn't throw his life away. It would be sad to die that young, anyhow. And no one knew how that felt any better than Arthur.

The look of worry once again crossed Feliciano's features. "V-ve?! Arthur, you look pale! You're not going to have an attack, are you?"

Arthur closed his mouth and shook his head. "No, no! Something like that shouldn't happen again, Feli. It's nothing. It's just that . . . What you said . . . " His expression turned to another look of downcast solitude, only a small contented look and a slight blush hinted themselves on his features. Feliciano was had been right about so many, many things before, even his once fruitless hope of Arthur living out another year. If he said that Francis would show up again, Arthur couldn't help but believe him.

Ludwig patted Arthur's shoulder a tad gruffly. "Well, you seem to be a bit better after hearing what Feliciano said, right? Try not to feel so sorry for yourself if it does so happen that you never see that guy again." With a forced smile, he glanced at Feliciano who gave him a cheery thumbs-up.

"Yeah, okay," Arthur looked up and smiled sheepishly. He sighed for what must have been the millionth time that day and made himself more comfortable in his seat, glancing around the cafeteria that Kiku had been oddly absent from. Besides their small exchange in English class that morning, Arthur hadn't spoken to him since. "So . . ." he started, unsure of where to begin when asking about his strangely absent friend, "Anything particularly life changing happen while I was gone?"

"Well, how come no one introduced me to the guy with the cute accent?" a rather annoyingly loud voice asked from directly behind Arthur, making him jump and turn so fast in his chair he nearly tipped over his tray of food, but luckily only sent a stray carrot crashing to the floor instead. The person who had spoken was a tall (and by tall, he meant tall, he'd thought Ludwig was tall until just now, but this guy was at least two inches taller), sandy-blond teen with azure-blue eyes nearly identical to Francis's hidden behind silver rimmed rectangular glasses. He tilted his head to the side with a smile that practically screamed _"Yeah, I'm here to make your day awesome!"_ before he spoke again, his eyes traveling up and down the blonde's figure in a way that made Arthur twitch, "Have we met?"

Arthur couldn't help but stare for a long, uncomfortable moment until a faint spark of realization coursed throughout his body, "A-Alfred?"

The taller blond smirked, blue eyes glinting beneath his glasses, "You recognized me then, huh? Darn. I wanted to play with the oblivious amnesia kid." He shoved a disgruntled Lovino over, forcing him to take up root on the other side of the table facing Ludwig, whom he chose to glare at, and sat down next to Arthur with a chuckle, "It's been a long time, hmm?" He lifted up an arm with a motioning flick of his wrist, "Now hug me like you mean it."

The rest of the table just stared at the two of them in confusion as Arthur obligingly all but threw himself at Alfred, pressing his face into the larger boy's shoulder with a muffled curse. Lovino narrowed his eyes at them as Alfred laughed uproariously, patting Arthur's back with a broad smile, "Including people into one's odd looking conversations is a common courtesy," he frowned.

Alfred looked up with an almost shy smile, as Arthur still had his face pressed to into his shoulder, "I may have just moved here a few months ago, but I'm far from unacquainted with the town," he smirked. "When I was six and Arthur was seven I had to stay in the hospital for a period of time."

At this, Arthur looked up, jumping back from the other with scarlet flushing across his cheeks, "Ah, yes. That was it. Alfred had a bad case of the flu or something, an unusually high fever. But he just up and disappeared after a few weeks and never came back. I just assumed that meant he'd gotten better." He smoothed down his shirt that had become rumpled from the hug, "Now that I think about it, didn't you have a brother?"

"I'm here, Arthur," a quiet voice spoke up from behind them.

Arthur turned in his seat, smiling at the almost identical teen that he had failed to notice before, "Hello Matthew." Once he had the younger sibling in plain sight he was able to recall his name, though he was appalled to realize he couldn't just a moment before.

Alfred grinned and motioned for Matthew to take up a seat beside Lovino, "You had that heart thing, right?" he asked, waiting for a nod from Arthur before he continued, "The doctors said you weren't supposed to live past fifteen, you've got to be older than that now since I am too." The American blinked, "So why aintcha dead? Get a visit from an angel who gave you another chance? For whatever reason, I'm sure it wasn't karma," the high school junior of sixteen joked.

Arthur blinked at the odd preciseness of his comment as he considered the part about the angel, but before he could say anything a small voice piqued up from behind Alfred. "Ah, is it okay if I sit here?" Kiku approached them with an air of hesitance that put Arthur off balance. Sure, the dark haired teen had always been shy before, but he'd been assertive.

The taller blond laughed, waving at him, "Yeah, yeah! Come sit over here." He pointed excitedly to the seat between Lovino and Matthew that had been vacated after the former had sent Matthew a dirty glare for sitting too close.

Kiku slid into the seat with a sideways glance at Alfred that the other either didn't notice, or ignored, before he turned to Arthur, "So you're feeling better then?"

Arthur patted his chest, "Right as rain, actually. It's like I never had the condition at all." He shrugged and said plainly, "It's like you said, I guess an angel gave me another chance." A slight smile and a distant look crossed his features before he caught sight of the look Alfred was giving him.

The younger boy's eyes were trained on him like a fisherman watching his lure and Arthur felt the hair on his arms stand on end. "An angel?" he asked, voice unusually low though no one but Matthew and Kiku seemed to notice.

"Y-yeah, an angel," Arthur said, trying to force sincerity into his voice.

A long moment passed before Alfred's smile returned full power, "Well that's great! As long as you're better that's all that counts, isn't it?" he slapped Arthur on the back a bit harder than he was used to, and the older teen bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, though it wasn't much. After a moment of quick excuses that really weren't need for such a little amount of blood, he rushed off the bathroom.

He hadn't realized how long he'd lingered in front of the mirror in the small tiled room, sucking on the small gash on his lower lip, until the bell rang. But he still didn't move.

"_I've always wondered what the cops would say if they found a body drained of blood. They'd probably blame it on some satanic ritual, even thought the twin bite marks of a vampire would be as clear as day."_

"_Ami, can you think of anything more disgusting than drinking lukewarm liquid that tastes like a penny? Ew."_

He hated admitted to being worried about anything, especially a guy like that. But, oh hell, he'd admit to it now. When the hell was Francis's birthday exactly? How long did he have left? Was he really planning to just wither away alone? Those were the sorts of questions that ran rampant in his mind, though he tried to shoo them away, to little avail.

A hand rested on his shoulder and Arthur nearly fainted, and for a brief moment he thought it may have been Francis, the scene at the moment reminding him of when they'd first met. But to his disappointment he looked up to see Kiku reflected clear as day in the mirror. The dark haired teen cocked his head, "Is something bothering you, Arthur-san?"

Arthur quickly shook his head, "No, nothing, I promise," he said, though his smile was blatantly forced.

Kiku gazed at him, expressionless, for a long moment before he reached over, taking Arthur's hand in his own and turning it palm up, "Meet me after school, okay?" He ran his index finger over the blonde's palm, begging a dance that had no pattern.

The Englishman blinked in surprise as Kiku just as suddenly pulled away, making his way out of the bathroom as Arthur was left to stare blankly at his hand, still raised from where Kiku had held it. _B-E-H-I-N-D-T-H-E-P-O-O-L_. That had been the series of letters the shorter teen had diligently marked on his hand. Why he couldn't have just said it out loud was beyond Arthur, but he wouldn't inquire about it.

So it was that he found himself feeling like a fool shortly after the last bell rang and a quick assurance to Ludwig and Feliciano that he'd be fine walking home, standing behind the gym where the school's pool was located just beyond the wall. He'd been waiting far longer than he would have liked, and he glanced impatiently at his watch, noting that it was nearly a quarter to four, almost an hour after school let out.

A rustling in the bushes startled him out of the angry inner rant that had begun about waiting for someone who wasn't even nice enough to come visit a dying person in the hospital. The blond crouched down as a fox dislodged itself from the undergrowth with a shake, it's pitch black fur puffed up and a spring leaf stuck to it's fluffy tail. Arthur laughed, watching with amused eyes as the fox seemed to _glare _at him before he held out a hand towards the creature. Hesitantly, the fox leaned as far forward as it possibly could, stretching out it's nose to sniff cautiously at Arthur's skin before it leapt back and began to make a beeline for an old storage shed on the other side of the football field behind the shed.

Arthur called out for it to come back, but, being a fox, it pointedly refused and carried on it's way, Arthur trailing after it, curiosity getting the better of him. "What, did I smell bad or something?" he chided, sniffing his own hand with a frown. "It's not like you don't lick yourself or anything, that's worse in my opinion." He chewed on his lip as the fox shot him a look that could only be described as _offended_, before trotting off towards the shed again. The creature paused just beneath the aging structure's shadow before darting off around the corner of it where Arthur couldn't see. The blond scowled and moved his feet to follow when the sound of similar footfall made him halt where he stood.

Alfred rounded the corner the fox had vanished behind, his blue eyes seeming unusually dark as he leaned against the wall of the small building. The fox was twisting its long body around one of his legs, looking up at Arthur with almost sympathetic eyes as Arthur took a wary step back. Alfred merely smiled, "You know, I never expected that it would be someone like you who'd find what I've failed to."

"W-what are you talking about?" Arthur stammered, suddenly feeling as though his feet were locked in place under that blue gaze.

"The vampire. I've been looking for him for quite awhile now," Alfred smiled. "And yet he came to you without a problem. Why is that?"

"I-" he had been about to say that he didn't _know_ why Francis had first approached him when he realized that the look in Alfred's eyes was positively _deadly_. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he hissed instead, his shoulder's hunching defensively.

Alfred tilted his head to the side in the way that told that he was deep in thought before his normal smile replaced the much darker one of before, "Come with me."

Arthur inhaled sharply, alarmed at the sudden change in attitude. Alfred seemed not to notice his reaction however, and turned towards the storage shed, lifting up the padlock and unfastening it without a key or code. The doors swung inwards, revealing a dingy, almost empty interior that was strangely free of dust. The taller blond waltzed inside, pausing for only a moment to scratch the black fox behind the ears affectionately, murmuring something Arthur couldn't quite make out before shooing the creature away and glancing at his companion, "Close the door behind you."

The Englishman did as instructed, enveloping them in darkness for a brief moment before a low scraping sound of large items being slid across the floor greeted his ears, mingled a moment later with the screech of rusty hinges as a shaft of light appeared in the center of the ground. Alfred held open the trapdoor with a smirk, waving wordlessly at Arthur to jump down into it ahead of him. Cautiously, the older teen shuffled over to the place and peered down into the opening before Alfred forcefully shoved him down it, a drop which couldn't have been more than eight feet but made his ankles twinge painfully when he landed anyways. Scowling, he stared up at the other as Alfred slid down beside him, closing the door over his head. "Where exactly are you taking me?"

"Somewhere secret," Alfred said calmly, his face betraying nothing as he kicked the back of Arthur's shoes restlessly, urging him to move down the short tunnel ahead.

The number of steps it took to get to the end of the tunnel to where the light that lit it illuminated from was twelve, Arthur counted so that he'd know just how far he'd have to run if things turned bad. He lifted a hand over his eyes as they turned into an unexpectedly large room that the light was coming from, and his eyes strained to adjust to the sudden brightness. Computers lined two of the four walls, file cabinets against a third, and a large tack board against the final one, it's surface covered in newspaper clippings and internet printouts.

"Oh hell," a voice said sharply, distracting Arthur from the inanimate features in the room, "Why is the Brit here?"

The blond felt a faint start of surprise upon seeing Lovino splayed out on his stomach on a sofa near the center of the room. A sucker was hanging half out of his mouth as he glared at Arthur, one eyebrow raised in undisguised curiosity. Another boy, a senior student Arthur knew he should recognize, was laying on his back beside him, a whole bag of multicolored candies of all types sitting on his stomach, a seasonally out of place candy cane twirling between his fingers. His skin was slightly more tan that Lovino's, which was saying something, and his hair was a dark chocolate brown contrasting pleasantly with his green eyes. Oh right, Arthur remembered now; he was the student body president, Antonio something-or-other.

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Lovi, I thought I told everyone this already."

"Well maybe it was just so boring I didn't bother remembering it," Lovino snapped, frowning and scooting an little closer to Antonio in the process as though the Spaniard could protect him if his words made Alfred mad.

Which was hardly the case as Alfred turned away from them without another word, blue eyes scanning the two people seated at the computers on the far wall, "Ivan, Gilbert, stop looking at porn."

A teen with strikingly white hair and crimson eyes twirled dramatically in his seat from where he'd been practically glued to the computer screen, a mock look of astonishment on his face, "It's not _porn_, Alfred, it's art! Awesome art!"

"You're corrupting Ivan," Alfred pointed out, motioning towards the other who was still staring intently at the monitor. He was another face Arthur recognized, the Russian exchange student who had the highest grade point average in the entire school, and that was something compared to the diligently hardworking Ludwig and the child genius Kiku. His lavender eyes widened a bit beneath ash-blond bangs and he looked up at Alfred with an innocent expression.

"Yah-tah, it's not corruption. It's entertaining. And besides, I've seen boobs before."

Alfred's hand met his forehead with a resounding smack at the same time the trapdoor behind them creaked open again. He made no movement to see who had entered, merely calling out, "You're late Mattie, Kiku," before turning his gaze to a very confused Arthur. "Lovino and Antonio there are our top spies, infiltrating higher up places and social groups to gather information. Gilbert and Ivan at the computer there are our heads of technology and weaponry." At this, the albino teen, presumably Gilbert, flicked his wrist to reveal a long silver knife Arthur only just now realized he'd been holding all along. "Kiku," Alfred paused as the Japanese student drew up beside him, shifting uncomfortably on his toes, "is the know-all sort of guy. Any questions you have he'll be able to answer. He does the heavy duty research and such." He thumped a hand to his chest with a wave at Matthew, who was standing off to the side. "And Mattie and I are the heads of this whole operation."

"What operation?" Arthur asked snidely, "All I see are a bunch of weirdos underneath a storage shed."

A sly smile cut across Alfre'd face, a look that made Arthur shudder, "Why, the operation of hunting and killing anything and everything supernatural. We're the guns and rock-salt sort of guys, the exorcists and hunters of the paranormal. But you can just call us The SPN."

"S-P-N . . ." Arthur sounded out the letters, growing more and more wary by the second as Alfred continued to babble on.

"Exactly. And you're here because we need your help on a little project." Alfred tilted his head to the side, blue eyes glinting in the odd glowing light of the room, "We're looking for that vampire friend of yours."

Arthur stiffened in response, "I don't know any vampires," he said defensively, starting to take a step back until the other's eyes locked with his.

Beside Alfred, Kiku shook his head, twisting his fingers into the American's shirt sleeve warningly, but Alfred ignored him. "Either you do or you don't. But that shouldn't' stop you from helping us, right?" The tone was almost a snarl.

The blonde's heart thundered in his chest, and somehow, he knew Alfred could hear it. He wanted to flat out refuse, but the fact that Alfred knew about Francis at all meant that that option would be even more of a danger to the vampire than the alternative. If he joined them then there _was_ the off-chance he could lead this strange posse astray from their target... "No, it doesn't," he said after a long moment of thought. "But I have no idea where this vampire you're talking about is, I've never met such a thing."

Alfred growled, but straightened, touching the Kiku's hand briefly in reassurance, "I can smell a lie, you know. Do not take me for a fool." Arthur bit his lip, meeting his gaze as evenly as he could. "Just as I can smell that creature's smell on you. You've become mixed together." He flicked his head a bit, eyes narrowing behind his glasses, "Right then. Do you have any special skills that could be of value to us since you refuse to tell the truth about your vampire?"

Arthur wanted to snap that Francis was hardly _his_ vampire, but he kept his mouth closed while he thought. "I-I can see ghosts and stuff," he muttered, face red with embarrassment. "Fairies, demons, things like that."

"Now that is a skill." Alfred whistled, sounding impressed, his fingers doing a lazy dance against the back of Kiku's hand that was still fisted into his sleeve. "Kiku has a similar power, right?" Kiku nodded. "Then why doesn't he teach you a thing or two this weekend?" He flicked a hand towards the door, his eyes on Lovino, "Take him home, you two live together, right? There are a few things that must be wrapped up here first and foremost before I'm ready to assess him."

Lovino rose obediently, Antonio following him with his eyes alone but not moving from his position other than to mouth something to the Italian, apparently not allowed to do the same without orders from Alfred. Lovino grabbed Arthur by the back of the shirt and dragged him back down the tunnel, ignoring his loud bemused protests at being dismissed so suddenly.

Alfred waited until the trapdoor slammed shut behind them before he motioned for Antonio to move off the couch, taking up the spot instead with a heavy sigh. Matthew went to riffle through some of the articles on the tack board while Kiku remained where he was, watching the exit with narrowed eyes. "Is this really the best idea, Alfred-san?" he asked after a moment of silence in the room.

The blond craned his neck to stare at him upside-down, reaching a hand over his head to grab Kiku's wrist, pulling him over to the couch, "It's the only idea I have left, and you know it." He sat up and pulled the older teen onto his lap, reaching a hand down the top of Kiku's shirt, making the other gasp slightly. Alfred withdrew a small pouch hanging from a cord on the other's neck, holding it tight in hand as he pressed his forehead to Kiku's, "We have two choices, Kiku. These," he shook the little cloth bag, a faint metallic clinking and rolling sound coming from within, "Or that vampire's blood."

Kiku's eyebrows furrowed with anguish, and he snatched the bag back from Alfred, tucking it beneath his shirt again, "Don't say that. It will _never_ come to that, I swear."

"And that's why you alone hold the key to my demise." Alfred smiled. "Just get me that vampire, and it won't have to."


	3. Every Minute

_**Hey all, Kari here to answer reviews like a good little girl again. SO sorry for the late chapter. It was my fault, and my laptop crashed. So I had to get a new one and get Geek Squad to recover all my data. I was very bored for 2 months. And about the two new characters, I plan to write their backstory either in this story, or as a side story on this account. Kapeesh? Anywho . . .**_

_**Moonstreakneko-**__ D: I am not that crazy! D: don't you dare mock my fangasm-ness!_

_**VelvetChinaDoll-**__ O_O *stares awkwardly at you* now why the heck would I tell you a spoiler like that, dearie? *cheeky grin*_

_**XXlikecatsXX-**__ ummm . . . That's ESPN, hun. _

_**Lady-Ribbon-**__ ahahaha, thankies thankies. I'm never much of a fan of a BA!Alfred, but it works well for this fic, nah? And Kiku's not really being bullied, he just has a lot of . . . Worries. A lot a lot. And don't worry about Francis, he'll show up in a secy-poo_

_**Serene528Moon-**__ WOO! *high fives you* thank GAWD someone got my reference. It would be very sad if no one did. D: and I wish I could update faster, I just have . . . Procrastination problems. And Myriad is just as lazy as me. We try tho, we try._

_**ApurpleAvacado-**__ O_O not telling! Stop being so smart! *smites u for possible spoilers* naw, good guessers are much appreciated. But NOT TELLING! *zips lips*_

_**.Phantom**__-__thankies very much! And OF COURSE Alfred is in it. D: he's my FAVORITE!_

_**Boriquen Hetalia-**__ root away! And of course they're gonna make it more fun. It'd be so much more boring if they didn't. o 3o_

_**Jamacia-tan-**__ thank you!_

_**CreativeInjustice-**__ wish I had enough time to look into it, but I'm behind enough on the stuff I'm already watchin and reading. Including Hetalia_

_**LithiumKiss-**__ thankies thankies! And yes, Twilight is VERY pathetic. XP glad u think so._

_**Hanaadi88-**__ hahaha, that's okay. Glad u like it so far! It's fun to write. :3_

_**Counterintuituve-**__ thankies very much! But FrUk can't have very much lovin until Francis accepts Arthur as his mate, now can he? :D_

_**One Day Too Late: Every Minute**_

_Alfred's hands had been strong even when they were small, his grip around Arthur's fingers just as sure and steady as it was in the present. He'd come to the hospital as suddenly as he'd left, both him and his brother rushed in through the ICU with doctors yelling around them. The noise of it had woken Arthur as they blazed past his room, monitors beeping and nurses waving people out of the way._

_They said it was an abnormally high fever, a hundred and six to be exact, and nothing the doctors did the entire time the twins stayed at the hospital could bring it down. It was after the first four days that Arthur finally got to meet them officially._

_He'd been sitting on the window box in the ward's playroom, an open book balanced on his knees and his eyes trained on the world outside. A shout from a doctor outside in the hall caused his attention to waver, but he did no more than turn and gaze at the doorway halfheartedly as two small blondes barreled inside and crouched just out of sight from whoever was outside. They were completely identical in almost every way aside from the slight difference in their hair. The boy with the straighter hair spoke first._

"_They're toys in here!" he squealed in delight, rushing over to the toy box in the far corner and throwing it open. His brother followed wordlessly, a large white stuffed bear clutched to his chest. _

_Arthur narrowed his eyes as the rowdier twin began to toss the toys around the room before he turned back to the window, staring out it with a sigh. He'd been cooped up in the place for far too long, and there was no one to take him home anymore, either. His eyes followed the paths of small raindrops down the windowpane to the ground far below, and his shoulders hunched with regret. If he'd been healthy, if he'd been born a normal child, his parents wouldn't have been driving that late at night, or that fast, to come see him. He would have never had such a terrible attack. _

_But wishing he could have been born different was the same as wishing he'd never been born at all._

_The blond blinked as he came back to reality, the patter of the rain on the window fading to background noise as his ears picked up the rather loud "Brroooom!" noise just beside him. The child with the straighter hair was crouched next to the window cushion, a toy truck in hand as he made it roll along the edge just past Arthur's feet. Noting the other's irritated gaze on him, he looked up with an almost too innocent grin, "Do you wanna play?" Of course he didn't want to play. He spent every waking moment in this hospital listening to worried nurses and doctors tell him not to run, not to jump, not to get too excited, and not to scare himself; ever. Arthur frowned, shaking his head slightly, "M'not allowed," he muttered, pointedly turning back to his book._

_The child smirked, "Me neither. Mattie and I are supposed to be restin'. But I wanna play." He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side, "Do you always do what stupid adults tell you?" Arthur made an indignant face, "No! Course I don't! But-" he drew off with a strangled little noise in the back of his throat. If he didn't listen, he'd have an attack, he'd learned that long ago. _

_Smiling faintly, the blue eyed boy began to roll the truck across the cushion near Arthur's feet again, "Yeah," he whispered softly, as though he'd been able to guess what Arthur was unable to say. "But . . . Isn't it better to have fun? It would suck to-" he waved a hand absently, incapable of so much as referencing the word, "without having ever had any fun, you know?"_

_The other's eyes widened, and he held his breath while he thought about it, an old habit. After his parent's deaths, he expected his own at every turn, practically waiting for it here in the window seat of the playroom. He lifted a hand to his face, suddenly realizing that tears had begun to form and trickle down his cheeks. Sniffling, he inhaled a sharp sob, closing his eyes as the child looked up at him. "I-" He sucked in a shaky breath of air, "I don't want to die . . ." Arthur gasped, choking on the tears he couldn't seem to stop, "I don't want to die!"_

_The blue eyed child smiled once more, "Then don't. Play, and have fun, and run around." He tugged on the edge of Arthur's shirt, "And don't' forget to make friends. 'Cause then . . . You make memories too. And as long as there are memories, you can never really die."_

_Arthur hiccupped, searching for a proper reply in his mind but coming up short. So instead, he said softly, "M-my name is Arthur."_

"_I'm Alfred."_

_Arthur hated the night time. In its eerie silence, he could hear the billowing whoosh of things that he should never be seeing as they glided past his door. He could see the light of souls in the dark shadows, following the all too human looking reaper outside and into the night. And for those the reaper left behind, he could see them wandering the halls too. Wailing, wanting, yearning for the life they'd left behind. They would enter his room and call out to him, and he would ignore them. He'd learned that if he didn't they would never leave him alone._

_Alfred and Matthew couldn't see them, not even the reaper who hovered around Arthur every few days, checking to see if it could take him yet. When he told Alfred about it, the other blond had merely smiled as he always did. A smile that said he believed him because they were friends, but at the same time, found the whole thing ridiculous. But when Arthur panicked when a spirit or sprite wandered too close, Alfred wouldn't hesitate to let Arthur cling to him. And he would hold him tight in return, murmuring that everything would be all right as long as he was there._

_Except that he wasn't. And Arthur knew that the day would come when Alfred and his brother, slowly on their way to recovery, would leave. And he'd be all alone once again._

_He had his first attack in a long time a few weeks later, only to awake to feel unusually warm finger grasping his own. Arthur breathed in slowly, turning his head to the side to make emerald eyes meet azure-blue, "Hey . . ."_

_Alfred smiled, though for once his mouth wavered from it's usual confidence, "Hey," he replied, voice wavering. "M'glad you're okay, Arthur."_

_Arthur nodded, closing his eyes, "Me too. Let's play again tomorrow, okay?"_

_The other blond clenched his hands around Arthur's with a sharp inhale of breath, "Yeah. We'll play lots, promise."_

_He was gone when Arthur woke up, almost as though he and his brother had never been there at all. When he asked the nurses they just stared at him blankly, or would laugh softly and tell him that he was getting much too old for imaginary friends. But he knew better. The hand that had gripped his tight had been warm, firm, and all together __**very**__ real. Not like a ghost, or a fairy, or even a reaper of death. Real, and human._

Arthur sat straight up in bed, breath uneven, only to nearly jump out of his skin upon finding Lovino perched vulture-like on the edge of his bed, glaring down at him with the most evil glare he'd seen in quite awhile. "You said Alfred's name in your sleep," he said lowly, the tone making the Englishman flinch. "You do know that everything you saw yesterday has to remain an absolute secret, correct?" The blond shuddered slightly, "I'm not stupid, Lovino. I won't say anything about it."

The Italian scowled, "Not even to Feli or that potato-bastard?"

This startled Arthur, "Wha- you mean _you_ haven't told them? Are you insane?" Lovino merely gave him a bored stare, "No, you are for thinking that would go over well. Let them live in their happy little bound-to-end fairytale for now. They don't need to know anything about the SPN, or what we do at night." He swung his legs off the edge of the bed and stood up, straightening out his shirt in a very OCD way, "Feli wants your help in the garden today, so get up and get dressed." Glancing back at the blond, his mouth straightened once more, "And keep your mouth shut."

Arthur rolled his eyes and watched as Lovino slowly stalked out of the room before he began to riffle through his drawers for a shirt and pants he could wear while working on the garden. And if there was one thing Arthur hated, it was getting good clothes dirty. He chose some worn out jeans and a light, but pleasantly form-fitting t-shirt before he wandered outside, catching the cup of tea waiting for him on the counter near the back door before he went.

Feliciano was crouched beside his small flower garden. When they were younger, he and Arthur had planted the first seeds there, the ancestors of the flora that had become to bloom freely there now. They'd planted them with the promise that as long as flowers continued to bloom in that spot, Arthur's heart would keep beating. With how long he'd been in the hospital before Francis had shown up, he'd all but forgotten.

The Italian didn't look up as Arthur kneeled down beside him, cradling a single blue flower in his palms, dirt floating off the tips of his fingers in the cool early spring breeze. He smiled as Arthur glanced at him, "It's a Himalayan Blue Poppy," he said slowly, stumbling a bit on the words, "I got it for you to plant. Pretty, isn't it?" Arthur nodded, at a loss for words as Feliciano handed him the plant, the dirt around it sprinkling out between his fingers. Carefully, he placed it in the small hole the Italian had dug, scraping dirt over it ever so carefully. "Feliciano . . ." He started, swallowing tightly, "Why?"

Feliciano merely smiled, one of those innocent, yet oddly wise smiles that Arthur had always found comfort in. "Because it's blue," he said simply, turning his attention to the other flowers in the garden. "Everyone has a color that they enjoy most for some reason or another. I thought that maybe for you-" He stopped, smiling a bit wider, but ending the sentence there as he threaded his fingers between the petals of a cornflower.

The blond glanced at the flower, studying it's color as the late morning rays of sun hit it's leaves and petals. How was it that Feliciano always seemed to know things like that, better yet, how he knew that the flower in question was the exact same shade as Francis's eyes had been. A frustrated growl rumbled up in his throat at the thought, and he tore his fingers into the earth around the plant and pulled it up from the ground, throwing it onto the grass. Feliciano gasped in surprise, jumping up with an astonished, "Arthur!" before Arthur turned his back to him and stalked out of the yard and around to the front of the house.

Shoulders hunching in confusion, Feliciano made as if to follow him, but instead bent down to scoop the broken flower up from the ground. With a slow tenderness, he placed it back where it had been before, making a little pained noise as he noticed the broken stem and the petals that floated freely away from the plant. "Poor thing," he whispered. "He didn't mean it, really, he didn't. Arthur's just . . . He's hurting." His brown eyes glazed over, and he cupped his hands around the thing, murmuring soft words of comfort.

Lovino, who was watching from the back doorway narrowed his eyes as his twin pulled his hands away from the plant, the flower blooming fuller than before. Without a word, he made his way over to his brother and placed a warning hand on his shoulder, "Feli-"

"Don't, Lovi," Feliciano interrupted voice unusually low and hostile. "Just don't. you wouldn't let me do a thing for Arthur when he was sick, the least I can do is fix the flower I got for him." He looked down, focusing his gaze on the ground, "Everyone has things that they live for, Lovi. Arthur is still looking for his. Let him be, at least for a little while."

"What do you live for, Feli?" Lovino asked quietly, auburn eyes blazing.

Feliciano frowned, knowing what his brother was prying for. "I live for a lot of things, Lovi," he said finally. "I live because I was born," he paused, "because you would die if I died," He glanced at the cornflowers out of the corners of his eyes with a faint smile, "I live for the person who would give me flowers everyday when we were small."

Lovino growled, "Feliciano, you know that-"

"That we aren't allowed to be with humans?" Feliciano finished, "Yeah, of course I do. But Lovi, what's life without breaking a few rules?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Francis hadn't moved much from the large, ornate couch that took up the mansion's main sitting room in the last few months. His hair was growing out longer than he would have liked, but he ignored it for the most part, running his fingers through it to pick out the tangles every few hours. It was the only room in the house with a television, which annoyed him to no end. He was the sole person in the place who watched it, and thus he had to pay for it. Although, his allowance was large enough to cover that as well so . . .

Ilea was lounging on the rug at his feet, a coloring book open in front of her. She'd worked her way through most of it that day, and was doing a connect-the-dots when she noticed Francis watching her. She smiled pleasantly, "Does the young master require something?"

"No," Francis smirked, closing his eyes, "not right now, sweetie. I'm just waiting too die."

He nearly had a heart attack as a hand fell on his shoulder, and he sat straight up in surprise. "That's no way to talk in this house, Francis Bonnefoy," a cool, calm voice said smoothly, sharp fingers digging just a little too harshly into his shoulder.

The vampire inhaled sharply, "Roderich, don't sneak up on me like that, you prick."

An older man with slicked back light brown hair and dark blue eyes hidden behind thick glasses frowned down at him, the mole near the corner of his mouth twitching as he held in a smile of amusement. "You really plan on dying, Francis?"

Francis put his hands behind his head and grinned cheekily, "Well, I don't know. I don't exactly have a lot going for me as it is, so . . ."

Roderich stretched his arms out in front of him, fixing the buttons on the cuffs of his sleeves absently, "What about that boy you were with? The sick one."

"Arthur isn't sick anymore, he doesn't need me," Francis muttered sourly.

The other stared down at him for a long moment before he moved around the side of the couch and sat down, straightening the collar on his very old fashioned suit. "Francis, need is a two way street. Especially for people like us."

"Vampires," Francis cut in.

An amused smile crossed Roderich's face, "Yes, vampires," he echoed. "Francis, do you know what I went through to get where I am today?"

"You embraced the role of a vampire and sucked lots of blood," Francis said, slouching down where he sat. "Whoopdie-freakin'-do."

Roderich shook his head, "Well that was a pleasant way to summarize my life in a sentence. But no, that's not exactly it." He swept a hand back through his hair, taking off his glasses with the other hand. "My life was never easy, Francis. And a long time ago, anyone associated with vampires was killed on the spot. I . . . I have a lot of memories of things that I regret, and there is no way to ever take them away. But I can pass on a word of the wise, Francis."

Francis tilted his head to the side, "Oh?"

"Live so that there are no regrets," Roderich whispered. "And don't let the people you love slip away from you." He stood up, flicking a bit of lint off of his dark blue tailcoat, "I'll let you think on that for awhile," he said, making his way out of the room. Roderich walked slowly down the hall towards the kitchen, leaning heavily against the counter when he got there. The room was mostly just for decoration, though Francis, who still had yet to drink a drop of human blood, kept the fridge well stocked with food. Roderich slumped down to his knees, resting his head in his hands with a strangled sob. "We raised him to carelessly," he murmured into his hands. "And now he's going to die because he's too stubborn to accept who he already is."

"Would you have rather we had left him to be raised by mortals like you had been Roderich?" a low voice said behind him, well calloused hands resting gently on his shoulders.

"No," Roderich whispered. "No, never. No good would have ever come out of that."

"Of course not. We did what we could for him. And if the little turd wants to die a mortal man, then so be it. He does not have to choose a partner. Life is about free will, after all." The tone was sour, flavored with subtle tinges of sorrow.

Roderich bit his lip, rubbing his palm over his eyes as he realized he'd left his glasses in the other room.

There was silence for a long moment before the other spoke again. "You said that your life was full of regrets. Am . . . am I . . ."

The vampire stood, his mouth set in a tight frown, blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned to face the other. His fingers laced into the shoulder length blond hair as he let his forehead touch the other's, "No, Vash. No."

Vash flinched away from the touch, seagreen eyes shimmering with disbelief, "But I was not your first choice," he said hoarsely.

"No," Roderich admitted, "But fate was inevitable, and without you I would be lost." He cocked his head, drawing back a bit and catching the blonde's wrist and bring it up to his chin.

Vash looked away. He'd been Roderich's partner for almost three hundred years now, and he still never got entirely used to that hungry look the other man would get in his eyes sometimes. He inhaled as Roderich surged forward, long canines sinking into his wrist as he used his other hand to grab Vash's waist and tug him closer. Wincing at the first sharp spark of pain, he whispered, "I tried to stab you when we first met, do you remember?"

"Captain of the guard," Roderich murmured, titling his head up to lick his lips and trace a fine trail of blood down Vash's arm with his tongue before he made his way back to his wrist.

The blond groaned, eyelids fluttering as Roderich continued to feed on him, his knees beginning to weaken. If he told anyone that every time Roderich did this, it felt somehow orgasmic, they'd probably laugh. Hell, it had taken him almost a hundred years to tell it to _Roderich_. "Do you think that fate will save Francis as well?" He asked softly, but Roderich didn't answer. He slipped down to his knees, unable to support his own weight anymore, the Austrian catching him with an amused chuckle. "Francis is still here," Vash muttered, a whimper escaping him as Roderich bit him harder.

"No he's not," Roderich assured, pausing a moment to listen. "His little familiar is though, but she's no trouble."

Vash moaned, trying to push himself back up, "It's never a 'no' with you is it," he muttered.

Roderich shook his head, "Table? or shall I carry you to the bedroom?"

"Francis will _kill_ you if you mess up his table. And I can walk myself to the bedroom, thank you very much you damn aristocrat." He straightened up as Roderich obediently drew back, rolling his eyes pointedly. Turning to lead the way, he glanced over his shoulder, "You don't regret taking me instead of Elizaveta?"

For an uncomfortably long moment, Roderich was silent, his eyes practically boring holes in Vash's back. "I don't," he said finally. "I could only save one of you, and I chose you, Vash. So stop wondering if I would have ever chosen different."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"_Live so that there are no regrets, and don't let the people you love slip away from you." _

Francis stood with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his eyes trained on the frozen ground between the hospital buildings, the shadows that covered the area leaving the dirt cold in the early spring air. He couldn't remember why he had come here; Arthur wasn't here anymore. Actually, Francis had no idea where he was now. He hadn't bothered too look it up, he didn't really want to know. The less he knew, the easier it would be to forget entirely. Which was exactly what he wished he could do.

He wished he could forget emerald eyes and blond hair and all together too-large eyebrows. But he couldn't. With a frustrated sigh, he kicked at the ground, his mouth turning downwards into a scowl. He wanted to die alone, that was what he'd always planned to do, right? Why did his heart suddenly clench with fear at the thought when it never had before?

Maybe if he'd grown up in a normal household, without Vash and Roderich always fighting over whether or not Vash becoming Roderich's life partner had been a mistake, it would have been different. He'd come to the decision long ago that he would never make someone regret staying with him like he assumed Vash did. That just wouldn't be right. Immortality was not something to wish for.

"Francis?"

His heart leapt uncontrollably in his chest, but he remained where he was, muttering a short, "Imagination. Not real," under his breath.

Arthur stood on the other side of the small park between the buildings, standing stalk still, too stunned to move. It couldn't be, it . . . just couldn't be . . . ! Standing in the exact place they had built the snowman together was Francis. At least that's what his eyes told him. "Francis," he said again, a bit louder this time, though the disbelief was clear in his voice. "Francis, wait. Please don't go," he winced at how completely pathetic that sounded. "Please . . ."

Francis sucked in another breath, reminding himself that, inhuman or not, he still had a need for air. "Mon cheri," he said softly, "It will be so much better for you if I do. You would do better to have never met me at all."

The Englishman's thick eyebrows furrowed in anguish, "But . . . Without you I wouldn't be here at all. Whatever you did, it saved me. And for that, I am eternally grateful." He paused, taking a few steps forward, "Can't . . . Can't I do something to help you as well?"

"You have no need to feel obligated to do any such thing," Francis hissed, his tone sharp and harsh. No, he did not want Arthur to be indebted to him like Vash was to Roderich. His fists clenched in his pockets, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood.

"I don't feel _obligated_," Arthur drew out the word, emphasizing it as though it were some sort of foul thing, "I _want_ to help you, Francis. Is that such a terrible thing to wish for?" He managed to swallow back a pained undertone in his words.

Francis's shoulders hunched, and he tucked his head down against his chest, "You said that you wanted to rescue a helpless princess," he teased.. "And I'm really not that." He looked up, his visage lightened with a crooked smile

"Maybe I lied," Arthur snorted, feeling a sudden effervescent mood lift his chin. "And besides, you're flamboyant enough to pass for one."

The vampire rolled his eyes, a small smile crossing his face that Arthur couldn't see. "Thank you for that lovely comment on my sexuality, mon cheri. It was quite awkward."

Arthur grinned, "Really? Good. It was meant to be." He shrugged his shoulders halfheartedly, taking a few more steps closer, "I'm not asking you to choose me to be your life partner, or whatever the hell it is that you need. But I . . ." He reached out, closing the short distance and lightly touching Francis's arm, taking note of the small flinch that resulted. "But I'd like to find some way to help you, all the same. Not out of a debt to pay or anything like that. I want to help out of my own free will."

"_Life is about free will, after all."_

Francis smirked, "You can certainly try."

"Francis," Arthur leaned his head forward, resting it between the taller man's shoulder blades, "How many more months do you have?"

The vampire tilted his head up towards the sky as though thinking, "My birthday is in November," he said slowly. "That's all you really need to know, cheri."

_November_. Eight months. He had eight months. Arthur swallowed, realizing with a start that their might not even be eight months left at all if he let anything slip to Alfred about Francis. "Francis . . . There's something else."

"Hmm?"

"Do you know anyone named Alfred F. Jones?"

**Myriad Lapse here! BUWAHHH…! I can't help but feel at great fault for making this chapter so late. *headdesk* After all, I REALLY coulda done a better share of the writing than I did for this chappie. (Correcting grammar and enhancing visualization isn't really much for someone like me to do, methinks…DX) but unfortunately, I'm the world's laziest procrastinator. Seriously, I can't even get to posting up a single story I have in my head because I'd never EVAR update on it. So, be glad I'm not crushing too many hopes just yet.**

**Well, I wanna mention that I've gone through hell and high water while experiencing certain personal events, and I've grown into an even BIGGER fan of Hetalia than when we first started this story. Example: I could not name the face of a single Nordic country three months ago, and now I'm obsessively fangasming over DenNor fan works amongst others. So I think a great change in my writing style will show up in the next chapter (which, I swear, I'll finish! D:).**

**Well, I'm wondering if any of you can guess a little something about this story Kari and I forgot to mention. There's a tad relation to where we got the title, and I wanna know if any of you are familiar with our source. It shouldn't be too hard, but I'm not giving any hints except for the title, the first two chapters' titles, and the plot in general. If you can guess it, I'll be happy to reward you with imaginary muffins. :3 Eh-heh . . . Auf Wiedersehen!**


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